When a Hitman Gets Haunted by a Ghost
Chapter 61: Strangers

Chapter 61: Strangers

The man sighed begrudgingly, but still led Gabriel inside by the elbow. "Christ. What am I, your nanny?"

"No, sorry..." Gabriel mumbled.

For some unknown reason, the apology pissed off the man even more. "The hell are you sorry for? Sorry this, sorry that. Quit apologizing. It’s getting on my nerves."

Gabriel shrank smaller, staring at his bare feet to keep himself from crying. It didn’t seem like this man was born with enough nerves to begin with. Why was he even fired up over something like this?

As soon as they stepped into the bright lobby, the warmth hit Gabriel like a cup of tea, making him shiver involuntarily. The receptionist looked up, her gaze flitting between the gruff man and the boy.

"This one’s got a broken ankle," the man told her, nodding at Gabriel. "Found him on the street, mugged."

"Oh, dear." The woman’s demeanor softened into a sympathetic grimace.

She rolled over a wheelchair for Gabriel to sit down. He did as he was told and settled in it with his pulse racing, feeling more and more like a child.

A nurse came over to roll him to the waiting room.

The gruff man hovered near the receptionist, wearing a nicer expression as they talked. They must have been familiar with each other.

Gabriel stared at the tiles passing under his feet as he was rolled down the hallway. When the wheelchair came to a halt, the nurse asked for his name and his personal identification number, then disappeared.

He lifted his gaze to look around the waiting room.

Another person sat in a shadowed corner. The guy was young, probably not much older than Gabriel, with black hair and dark eyes that shot dry glares towards the reception counter.

Gabriel glanced back to the counter, just to find the gruff man stare in the black-haired guy’s direction. The two scowled at each other like enemies, then looked away as if it never happened.

Gabriel watched the exchange, a little curious. Did everyone in here know each other? He felt like he walked into a strangers’ family gathering.

The nurse showed up again and placed a hand on his shoulder, speaking as if to a kicked puppy.

"Listen, Gabriel, since you’re underage, we’ll have to call your parents. Do you mind telling me what happened first, so I know if we need to alert the police or not?"

Alert the police? That question was scary alone, but calling his parents? Bone chilling. The idea of facing his father’s biting criticism and disappointment made him sick to his stomach.

Suddenly, the room, the lights, the voices, the sound of medical carts rolling on the tiles—everything was too much.

Gabriel covered his mouth and looked down, unable to get another word out. Even now, he couldn’t act like a normal person. His eyes stung. Why did it all just keep getting worse?

"I’ll bring you a glass of water, alright?" the nurse said, her voice somewhere far away.

How did he even end up here? Everything had been perfectly fine just a month ago, before he wrote that stupid love letter...

But had it really been fine? Was it ever fine? He couldn’t answer that.

The gruff man watched him detachedly from afar, leaning against the counter.

"The kid looks traumatized. Do you know him?" the receptionist asked, watching Gabriel.

"No, first time seeing him. He’s not from this side of town," the rough voice replied.

The woman nodded, her eyes not leaving Gabriel, who was taking deep breaths, trying to maintain his composure. "Poor thing."

The gruff man gave a noncommittal hum. "Not too poor. What type of expensive shit was he wearing for someone to tear the jacket off his back? Not to mention the shoes."

The nurse returned with a glass of water, but frowned when she noted Gabriel’s deathly pale grimace and his shaky fists clutching sweatpants.

"Does something else hurt?" the nurse asked gently, her hand on his shoulder again. "Are you feeling faint?"

Gabriel shook his head, but in a second, his face turned an unnaturally green.

"Please, the trash bin-" he said, his voice high-pitched and strained.

The black-haired guy, who had been watching him from the side, quickly grabbed the bin and shoved it to Gabriel.

Gabriel leaned over and coughed, retching desperately, but there was nothing in his stomach. It felt like his insides were trying to turn themselves out. He clutched at the trash bin, shuddering.

The nurse rubbed his back in what was supposed to be a soothing gesture, but Gabriel recoiled, shaking his head. "No, don’t..."

She took a small step back, exchanging a concerned glance with the receptionist. "It’s okay, just try to breathe."

"Did he happen to hit his head?" the receptionist asked the gruff man. "Maybe a concussion?"

"Didn’t seem disoriented to me. Sounded like he’s got issues at home. Might be stressed over the call to his parents."

Gabriel felt like he was on the bottom of the pool, the sounds gurgling around him. He was vaguely aware of a passing nurse speaking quickly on the phone. The sound of footsteps rushing by, the unfamiliar voices... he just wanted everything to stop.

"Take a deep breath," a calm, low voice stood out from the noise. "The world’s not gonna swallow you."

Gabriel managed to lift his head just enough to look up.

The black-haired guy was on one knee in front of him. He had a steady look, his dark eyes on Gabriel. "Can you lift your feet?" he asked, holding slippers in his hands.

Gabriel stared at them dumbly for a moment, then awkwardly set the bin down and lifted his feet.

The white slippers were set on the wheelchair’s footing. Gabriel slipped one on with ease, then winced as he bent his hurt ankle to slip on the other.

The way the black-haired guy sniffed made Gabriel glance back at him. At first, he thought it was a laugh, but looking closer, the guy’s expression hadn’t changed. But his nose looked swollen, injured. It must have been the reason why he was here.

When he saw Gabriel staring at him as if possessed, he pointed down. "Look at your feet. Comfortable?"

Gabriel looked back to his feet. His toes wiggled under the woolen fabric, the feeling somewhat comforting. His breathing still sounded odd, but it was slowly normalizing. "Yeah..."

"Look around the room," the calm voice continued. "See anything that stands out?"

The question caught Gabriel off guard. "Um..." His vision was still swimming, and the room seemed too bright, but after a few blinks it finally focused.

"That painting looks weird," he managed to croak, nodding at an abstract art piece on the opposite wall.

"Why?"

"...It looks like someone sneezed paint on a canvas and called it a day."

A snort, followed by a slightly pained hiss.

Gabriel scrunched his own nose as he watched the guy touch the swollen bridge of his nose with a frown. It looked like it hurt.

"Did someone punch you in the nose?" Gabriel asked quietly.

Another dry glare was shot towards the counter. "An asshole did." He looked back to Gabriel, his eyes back to calm. "Don’t mind it. Do you paint?"